Missing Pieces
by eschnipke
Summary: This is my first time writing FanFiction, so hopefully it's not horrible. I'm starting out with a collection of One-Shots, that will cover all different ideas and pairings floating around in my head. The first story is about Draco's 17th birthday. Enjoy!


This is my first FanFiction attempt, as you read in the description. I've read a lot of fanfiction before, so I kinda know what I'm doing lol. This first chapter is about an idea I had about Draco's 17th Birthday. Other chapters will hopefully be a little lighter / funny, but this a start.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter, all credit for the greatest books of all time goes to the amazing J.K. Rowling.

With only the fireplace light flickering across the room, it was hard for Harry to see exactly who, or what was sitting around the table. He had realized almost immediately that this wasn't a dream and that he was seeing a memory through Voldemort's eyes. He's been here before, but he can't quite place the location.

Harry wasn't scared; he was almost apathetic to the scene unfolding before him. It was nearing the end of the war (or what he hoped would be the end) and Harry was becoming used to falling asleep and peering into the portal that was Voldemort's mind.

Harry couldn't see much in the dark room, but he could tell that there were about eight people sitting at the table, and more standing in the back.

 _Oh, great. Another meeting about how they're going to take over the world and kill me for Voldemort, yadda yadda yadda_ , Harry thought.

A slight murmur was passing around the room, as the group waited for whatever this meeting was for to start. Harry could feel Voldemort becoming impatient; his grasp on his wand growing slightly more tense and his attention span lessening. This meeting wasn't for Voldemort, Harry realized. But if it wasn't about the war, then what was it for?

A few moments later, a door opened in the back of the room and in came Narcissa Malfoy. She was a carrying something, but Harry couldn't quite make it out. But as she walked towards Voldemort and the head of the table, he understood that she was carrying a large frosted cake with candles on top.

 _What the hell… who's birthday is it? Death eaters celebrate birthdays?! Please tell me it's not Voldemort's, please don't let it be his…_ Harry immediately went into offensive mode, ready for whatever range of emotions Voldemort was about to experience.

Narcissa stopped on Voldemort's right and set the cake down in front of the young man sitting there. The candles cast shadows across his face, but Harry could recognize him from those quick glimpses of light. It was Draco Malfoy, who stared at the cake as if it was a dead body lying in front of him. He looks repulsed.

Narcissa whispered to Draco, "Happy Birthday, my prince." She backed away from the table and stood in the shadows with the others.

Draco's eyes glanced back and forth, quicking landing on Voldemort's wand lying on the table and back onto Narcissa's grim face. He reached up to tousle his hair, hand trembling.

Harry couldn't imagine why Draco looked so… so…. **terrified**. Voldemort apparently understood Draco's nervous behavior and he suddenly stood up.

Draco pushed his chair back, hard, and sent it flying into the wall. The cake slid off the table and onto the floor. Draco instantly put his wand up in defense.

 _What is going on?!_ Harry couldn't grasp the situation.

Voldemort chuckled. "Draco. My dear boy. What are you so afraid?"

Draco didn't speak. He was shaking, but he still kept his eyes on Voldemort's wand.

Standing straight, Voldemort faced the room. "Today, we came to celebrate this young man and the moment that his life would be changed forever," he said. "But it seems like Draco is having second thoughts."

Voices around the table began to whisper at Voldemort's words. People stared at Narcissa, but she didn't take her eyes off of Draco, her knuckles turning white as she held onto a chair.

Voldemort flicked his wand. Draco's wand flew out of his hand. All talking ceased to exist. The only noises in the room were Voldemort's footsteps as he walked toward Draco.

"My dear Draco. Did you really think I would change my mind? Did you think that you could fight me and, what, escape? You'll never leave, Draco. You're weak, cowardly, just like your father," Voldemort scowled.

Draco just hung his blonde head in silence. He didn't move.

"Very well then," Voldemort declared. "Let's get it on with. Crucio!"

Draco screamed an unearthly sound that tortured Narcissa. She fell to the floor, sobbing

Voldemort dismissed her with a wave of his pale hand. "Take her away," he drawled.

Bellatrix rushed to Narcissa's aid and almost dragged her from the room. Her cries echoed through the house. Harry felt sick to his stomach, but he felt pleasure radiating from Voldemort's body. _He was enjoying this?!_ Harry wanted to scream out.

Voldemort laughed a cruel and hollow sound. He walked over to the fireplace and grab an iron rod that was lying in the flames. Harry's stomach sank.

Voldemort leaned over Draco's curled up body and yanked out his left arm and pushed up the sleeve.

He leaned over to whisper to Draco. "You belong to me now, now and forever. You are my slave." And he slammed the brand onto Draco's arm.

Screaming in agony, Draco jolted and tried to kick and push himself away from Voldemort's grasp. But he couldn't. The smell of burning flesh filled the room. A few seconds later, Draco passed out from the pain.

Voldemort lifted the iron from Draco's skin. Where it had laid, was now blackened skin in the form of the Dark Mark. He tossed the bar across the room; it hit someone and they yelped, but Voldemort didn't care.

He stood up over Draco's unconscious body, smiling. He cast a spell, turning the mark red for a moment before it faded back to black.

Facing the room once more, Voldemort spoke. "Tonight's event was just a little reminder of your service to me. Now leave my sight."

Everyone rushed to the doors, and a few carried Draco's limp body from the darkened room. It was quiet once more… until…

"Hi, Harry. Did you enjoy my show?"

END.


End file.
